


Honey

by TyrantTirade



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: A whole plethora of references, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sports, Enemies to Lovers, Football | Soccer, Its really all about the socks, Kissing, Like heroes of the storm, M/M, Online Dating, Rivalry, Socks, Texting, Unrequited Crush, Unsolicited nudes, and bulldogs, and socks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 16:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13104174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyrantTirade/pseuds/TyrantTirade
Summary: Steve hates him, really, really fucking hates him.





	Honey

**Author's Note:**

> For [Rb!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Werewolfinthetardis/pseuds/Werewolfinthetardis) The lamest old man on the planet, best dad around, biggest fag this side of mexico, best shoulder to cry on, and all around one of the best friends I've gotten the opportunity to meet.
> 
>  
> 
> So. this is very self/not so self/dad? Indulgent because when i was writing this i was trying to think of things he likes, Bulldogs, soccer, soccer socks. So i kind of just threw this mess together. But he swooned for like a day and a half and ive never felt so accomplished in my life.
> 
> So here i am wrapping it up in a big, shiny, red bow, and posting it for whoever else to read and hopefully also enjoy. 
> 
> Title has no actual relevance to this fic, but is more just a reaction to the events that take place in it, because as the wise Trixie Mattel once, or maybe a few times, said, “Honnnnnnney.”
> 
>  
> 
> A few warnings- im rating this teen because i dont see this as mature honestly, but there is a reference to an unsolicited nude that doesnt go into detail, but it is there. Also i know some people might be sensitive to some words lol, so be aware of strong language. If you dont like the word faggot, just, idk pretend that it isnt there?
> 
> Steve in texts is bold, Bucky is italic, and i think? Im done with the notes? I think.
> 
> Self edited, all mistakes are mine.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Steve hates him, really, really fucking hates him. 

 

Not that he doesn't hate all of the them, because, believe him, he hates every one of those stupid fucks from Hydra.

 

He just hates him in particular.

 

—

Barnes is just cocky. Probably the cockiest player that Steve has seen, and that says a lot because Steve has seen plenty of cock in his life. 

 

But just- God, it pisses him off so much. Stupid Barnes, running around the field with his stupid goddamn smile and that overwhelming exudence of confidence. It's like, he'll just fucking touch the ball and that gives him warrant to showboat. 

 

Now, despite Steve's hatred for him, he has to admit though that the kid is a good goalie Actually, the kid's a fucking phenomenal goalie.

 

It's just- he's such a fucking bastard. Steve wants to knock his teeth in every time that he does so much as laugh. 

 

—

He can clearly recall the first time that they played against each other.

 

He managed to find an open space, kicking the ball in perfectly until Barnes caught it midair.

 

Which, was fine, Steve isn't perfect. 

 

But then Barnes, ball in hand, fucking smiled. 

 

And not an innocent smile, no. He smiled so fucking smug that Steve could physically feel the hatred flowing through him.

 

Still though, Steve pushed back that irritation, thinking, maybe he just misinterpreted things. 

 

Until Barnes, after the win decided to approach him, and say “You tried your best sweetheart.”

 

And he had to grit his teeth so he didn't fucking kick that little prick in the nuts.

 

—

It seems like every other game they play against Barnes’s team, they lose, which, granted, is a hell of a lot better than losing every single game. 

 

But Steve's never claimed that he's not a sore loser. So even though their last game versus those dickheads was a win, Steve's still fucking furious.

 

He stomps across the field, fucking irritated as he watches Barnes watch him, his arms crossed, big fucking snarky grin on his face that Steve just wants to fucking kiss off. 

 

Wait- no, not that, not kiss. Slap? Anything but kiss. 

 

He cringes just thinking about it. Those disgustingly, soft looking lips, stupid stubble scratching across his cheek as they press in real close. Maybe Steve could tease him, act like he's going in to kiss him but just mumble what a fucking asshole he is into his mouth. Yeah, that serves him. 

 

But barnes would probably dive in to kiss him anyway, because Barnes is an idiot like that, his mouth all soft. And he'd probably even think that Steve likes it, disgusting. 

 

But jokes on him, Steve would never like that.

 

Not. Ever.

 

—

Steve doesn't know Barnes well, he barely knows him at all really, but he knows all about his attitude. Not just from first hand experience, but because apparently the asshole has a reputation with several people. 

 

He spit on Sam's shoe. 

 

He shoved Clint.

 

He called Tony a pussy. (Which Steve doesn't necessarily disagree with.)

 

And to really make things worse, he throws hissy fits when he loses. 

 

Full, ball throwing, screaming, ref yelling, punching, hissy fits. 

 

So Steve thinks it's pretty understandable why he doesn't like him. 

 

—

It's late by the time he gets home from the game. He's exhausted physically, but mentally he's on full alert. Still pent up with endorphins and tense energy. 

 

So as always, he ends up just laying in bed, looking through tinder until he crashes. 

 

Even if he fucking hates it. 

 

It's like he can swipe for hours and everyone is just, eh. And then every once in awhile when he finds someone that seems decent, they're either a cunt, or just fucking creepy. 

 

He let's out an audible groan as he swipes past the third dude in a fedora that he's seen that night. Promising that if he sees a fourth fedora he's fucking out. 

 

—

Idly he continues to swipe until...

 

It's like for a second his eyes stopped working, maybe he's getting cataracts in his ripe old age. 

 

He takes a double take, and then a triple take, and then a quadruple take. But each time it looks the same.

 

He cant help from barking out a startled laugh because right there, in his potential matches is none other than stupid fucking “James Barnes.”

 

—

He has to give Barnes one thing though. Outside of the whole, douchey Soccer player, thing, he seems pretty fucking charming. 

 

His pictures are all nice. Some of him with friends, probably drunk, but composing himself well as he smiles happily. A few of him with his dog, a big, fat, English Bulldog, that Barnes squeezes in his arms. A handful of pictures taken in the mirror, none shirtless, which is simultaneously nice because he's not trying to look like a slut, but also disappointing because well- maybe Steve wants to compare himself, or maybe get...a better idea of...how he plays...based on his abs? Or something.

 

His description is also nice, its short and simple yet somehow humble and it just seems so -not- Barnes. 

 

Barnes is a pretentious dick with a chip on his shoulder. Not, lovable, and charming, and kind, and- fuckable.

 

It's all a sham, Steve thinks. 

 

Yet he still, maybe out of habit, maybe out of his fucking mind, matches with him.

 

—

The next morning when he wakes he checks his phone as always and that gets him thudding his head back into the pillow. 

 

Because he should have figured that Barnes would send him a message. 

 

And he really should have figured that if Barnes sent him a message it would be- 

 

_ u didnt strike me as a faggot rogers _

 

Steve scrubs a palm over his face, groaning, yet trying not to break into hysterical laughter. 

 

He's not even sure if he should respond at all, thinking maybe the decision to match with him was a fucking horrible one. 

 

But instead, he catches himself typing out-

 

**Likewise**

 

And pressing send.

 

—

James is very persistent though, Steve notices. Because well, Steve has been a fucking dick. Mostly one word responding, or saying snarky comments. But Barnes just keeps at it, relentlessly mocking and teasing and borderline bullying information out of Steve. 

 

_ y did u even match with me? _

 

**Idk**

 

_ u do know _

 

**Not really**

 

_ This is y i dont like u _

 

**You dont like me because im better than you dipshit**

 

_ the only thing ur better than me at is being a cunt _

 

**I disagree**

 

—

_ r u stalking me? _

 

**Really?**

 

_ Yes really _

 

_ How did u find me? _

 

**Because you live near me?**

 

_ How far is ur fucking thing set _

 

**Why?**

 

_ u did this on purpose didnt u? _

 

**Youre the stupidest human being ive ever met**

 

_ Says the guy thats LITERALLY stalking me _

 

—

**Please just shut the fuck up**

 

_ No _

 

**Yes**

 

_ No _

 

**Yes**

 

_ You _

 

**K i will**

 

_ No dont ill b bored _

 

—

On monday when he goes back to class, Barnes is still messaging him.

 

Now, however, his messages are much less angry, but instead, they're what Steve can only describe as...friendly? 

 

And it's fucking weird. 

 

Like, for instance, that morning when he woke up he noticed that he had a message from Barnes saying- 

 

_ Morning fuckface _

 

Which, isn't exactly friendly by normal standards, but when it comes from your fucking enemy. That's just, weird. 

 

So he's sitting in class, only partially paying attention to the lecture. Most of his attention is plastered to his phone as he and James, who earlier said-

  
  


_ Call me Bucky  _

 

_ u said james and now im cringing a little  _

 

_ Just call me Bucky _

  
  


Talk about their mutual love of Heroes of the Storm and Bucky's massive crush on this swedish dude from the tournaments.

 

And Steve's starting to realize just how much he likes talking to Bucky.

 

—

One sunday though. Things start to...change. 

 

Maybe not so much change, as just, take a fucking total three-sixty.

 

And maybe it's not really in a bad way. Steves not entirely sure. 

 

It's just- he had been busy all day, out with a friend, so by the time he gets home, he's just then finally able to sit down and check his messages.

 

He and Bucky messaged for a good two weeks until finally Bucky sent-

  
  


_ can we just fucking text so i dont have 2 message u? _

  
  


Now a month later, they're accumulating text after text and no longer hating each other but being actual, friends? Very, very, close friends. 

 

Evidently so close that when Steve finally gets a chance to check his missed texts from Bucky he's...startled.

 

Again- maybe not in a bad way.

 

But he was definitely not prepared to see a full, very naked, picture of Bucky as soon as he got home. 

 

He clicks on it, staring at it for probably too long. 

 

Bucky is all fit and tan, soft and stacked with muscle. His phone covers his face sadly but Steve doesn't really care about that because all Bucky's fucking wearing is a pair of his team socks that hit right below the knee, black and red and Steve forces himself to stifle a groan at how fucking...perfect, he is.

 

Steve's so fucking, fucked. 

 

He wonders for a second if this is all just some awful plan to distract him from their next match so Hydra can get the win. 

 

But that thought is quickly forgotten because he cant make himself not look at the goddamn picture.

 

—

By the time they have their next match facing each other Steve has seen Bucky in several different ways.

 

Several different, very, very personal ways.

 

But they've also actually talked, and talked a whole lot. Not even just immaterial shit, but actual, real, substantial things. 

 

So while hes thrumming with excitement to play. Hes also thrumming with excitement to see Bucky in person again. 

 

—

_ u ready to get your ass beat rogers? _

 

**You ready to not be such a shit Bucky?**

 

_ u ready to see me? _

 

**Yes**

 

_ im ready 2 see u 2 _

 

_ But ur still gonna lose u fucking cock _

 

—

During that game, Steve struggles to actually pay attention. He tries his hardest but he just can't keep himself from looking over at Bucky. 

 

Bucky also seems to be struggling too because when Steve gets nearby he manages to miss most almost everything that comes his way. 

 

So by the end of the game, Hydra is having one of their worst losses of the year and somehow, Barnes isn't even raging. 

 

Well- at least not completely. 

 

He throws his arms up, yelling something it being an off game but Steve can't really catch it because he's being talked by Sam into the locker room.

 

—

He gets his, unusually clean gear off, in record timing, finding that he has a mixed text from Bucky that says-

 

_ Meet me behind tht weird bathroom place _

 

Steve smirks, sending-

 

**Youre a dumbass**

 

Before walking that way. 

 

—

He expects to maybe get tackled, or even jumped, maybe in a bad- ass beating way, or maybe in a good- sucky sucky way. 

 

But instead, he rounds the corner and sees Barnes leaned against the wall, quiet and collected as he puts a cigarette out against the bricks of the building. It's getting a little dark out, the only light coming from the awful field lighting. But he can see Bucky smile, stepping away from the wall.

 

But the next thing that happens is even more weird. It's so fucking weird. He's stepping towards Barnes, waiting for a handshake or something equally awkward, but that's not at all what happens. 

 

Barnes steps in and without warning wraps his arms around Steve, pulling himself into Steve. And for a second hr has no fucking idea what he's supposed to do. 

 

Because the last time he was this close to Barnes it was to spitefully shoulder check him.

 

But now barnes is pulling him tighter by the second and letting out what sounds like soft laughter into his ear.

 

And Steve's fucking stomach is in his throat. 

Bucky pulls away from the hug right as Steves hands settle on his back and Steve wishes for a second that they could just stay like that. 

 

Barnes smiles and pushes back at his hair and Steve's pretty sure that he's blushing. Which is both hilarious coming from such a fucking cocky guy, but also one of the most adorable things that Steve's ever seen.

 

Buckys still dressed in his full gear, stupid socks and all. 

 

“So,” Steve starts, “Why did you want me to meet you here? All alone in the dark? Is this a trap?” 

 

Bucky's arm comes out, connecting a soft punch to Steve's arm. “Oh yeah man, you caught me, im gonna kick your ass.” 

 

“You probably could,” Steve says. 

 

Bucky lets out a laugh, “Nah, I don't think id even have a chance against you.”

 

“Yeah you would,” Steve responds, tucking his hands into his pockets, “Id just let you keep hitting me, I couldn't hit you back, wouldn't want to hurt that pretty face.” 

 

Bucky stays silent for a moment, looking at the ground as he smiles, before shoving at Steve softly, saying, “Fuck off.”

 

—

It gets too cold to Stand around so they decide to sit in Steve's car. 

 

That might just be the greatest idea of Steve's life though because one moment he's going on about the game and the next moment Bucky is leaning over his console and kissing him breathless. 

 

“You know I've never hated you,” Bucky says, breaking the kiss before moving right back into it. Steve doesn't get a chance to say a thing. 

 

Bucky pulls away again, “I just-” he starts, his thumb sliding over Steve's jaw, “I'm just an asshole, and i can't handle people that are better than me.” He sighs, “Especially if they're the fucking most beautiful person I've ever fucking seen.”

 

His face gets red again, looking away and Steve's just so fucking in love with it that he can't keep himself from yanking Bucky's mouth back onto his.

 

—

Things get easier though. They actually meet up, like not sweaty and unprepared. They call and they text and eventually they say they love each other.

 

They even go back to being rivals again, Bucky starts being the biggest asshole in the world on the field again, and Steve rolls his eyes every chance he gets. 

 

But not because he hates him- 

 

But because his stupid boyfriend is a fucking shit and he can. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about soccer, or tinder lol. 
> 
> Comments and kudos, as always, are appreciated.
> 
> [Here's my Tumblr](Http://www.Tyranttirade.tumblr.com)


End file.
